


The Shoebox

by Marzi



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Study, Drama, Multi, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-13 05:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18025472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzi/pseuds/Marzi
Summary: When Laura Roslin's husband, Tom Zarek, is discovered to be a terrorist, her life and family are torn apart by the Colonial Government.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My roommate and I are re-watching BSG and it reminded me that I have another folder of unfinished WIPs that are ripe for the posting. This is from a very small one off I did for a prompt years ago that I started expanding into a much larger story. The title of this fic is the one I gave the drabble I wrote.

 

Laura couldn't decide whether it would have been worse to not know what was happening.

 

The confusion would have frustrated her, but the knowledge she possessed of just how bad things were about to get weighed on her. This way, she knew what had to be done.

 

“They came to school, said they wanted to talk to us.” Her eldest's voice was shaking, and she sounded out of breath. “But dad said... he said that if anyone came for us, without you or him... that..”

 

“That you should run.”

 

“Yes.”

 

Of course he had.

 

She sounded scared. Laura wanted to hold her in her arms and tell her everything was going to be alright, because it wasn't about to be.

 

“He said to go-”

 

“Go there,” she cut her off, knowing that having no idea where her children were heading was for the best. “Honey, you go there and you hide, and you wait for him, do you understand me?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I want you to turn your phone off once you hang up, okay?”

 

Richard's reenactments of Baltar and his overly long meetings didn't seem quite so bad now. At least she understood how some of their satellite defense mainframe could be utilized.

 

“...okay.”

 

She sounded like she was about to cry. Laura squeezed her eyes shut, though they were dry and no tears threatened. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest and her knuckles where white from how tight she gripped the bathroom counter in front of her, but her voice was steady.

 

“Lilah, you can do this, honey. Keep your sister safe. Stay safe, you can do that. I love you both.”

 

“Love you too, mom.”

 

The call ended and Laura slowly brought the phone down from her ear. After seeing her daughter's name on the screen, she had promptly made her excuses and left her meeting. It was the middle of the school day and alarm bells had immediately set off in her mind. This hadn't been one of the horrible scenarios she had conjured up. Laura looked at her reflection in the large, wall length mirror. She didn't look like a woman whose entire left just got turned upside down. She just looked tired.

 

Slipping her phone into her pocket, she exited the bathroom, heading for the stairs. There was no point in going back into the meeting. Let them wonder and scratch their heads. Let whoever had sent someone after her children worry that she was about to do something. Let them panic for a little while, fearing they had tripped open a sleeper cell and a building was about to go up. If her daughters had been hurt someone would have definitely been in pieces, Laura would have made sure of that.

 

Gods, her children. Though she was relieved they had been warned of such danger, a part of her felt bitter that Tom had foreseen such circumstances. How long had he been telling the girls this? Under what guise? _Your mom has a very important job at the government, and someone might try to hurt her by hurting you..._ Gods damn it, their children! She told Tom she could never forgive him such a trespass, and she knew she wouldn't. If only hating him made things simpler.

 

He had better be able to reach their girls before someone else.

 

“Madame Secretary?”

 

Ignoring the surprised call of her title, Laura pushed her way out of the building, earning several frowns from the security officers. No, she hadn't frakking signed out, let them come after her.

 

The midday sun warmed her skin, and blinded her momentarily by reflecting off the white stone plaza in front of the building. She trotted down the steps quickly but froze at their base, unsure of where she was going.

 

Everything did have to fall to shit on a rather nice day, didn't it? What had happened? A break somewhere in the network? A mole? Some lucky bastard called the cops on the right crook? It couldn't have been anything from within their apartment. After she found the box the only thing Tom ever brought home with him was the information in his head. She wondered if she would ever know the truth of it. A part of her wanted to shout that she was just overreacting, that there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for why someone would want to speak to her children without going through her first. That this strange behavior was what would get them exposed, not some supposed crime. She couldn't even let herself hope such a dismal lie could be true, and it faded quickly from her thoughts.

 

Inspiration struck and she moved out across the plaza, a purpose to her step.

 

A whole godsdamned year she had sat on the information of what her husband was a part of. After the initial shock had worn down, she had managed to push it from her thoughts, most of the time. Twenty-one years of marriage and it had taken a shoebox for her to realize what is was he did in his spare time. That she had been totally blind to his activities for all those years, now that was one of the better lies Laura had ever told herself.

 

The lunch hour had just started, not many people had managed to make their way outside yet, and she was glad for the small amount of privacy that granted her. Reaching the edge of the fountain, she stepped out of her shoes, carefully setting them on the stone edge where she intended to sit. It was a place she liked to visit regularly, and relax, to dip her toes in the water on a particularly warm day. Tom had lunch with her there more often than not, when his own schedule allowed. He would grab whatever it was she happened to be craving that day and meet her with the food. They used to take the girls, when they were little, to a similar fountain in the park by their old apartment. They'd toss cubits into the water and chase the pigeons that gathered to drink. The happy memories offered little comfort now.

 

She stared down at the rippling water, adjusting her skirt as she took her seat. Droplets splattered against the fabric, darkening the rich blue color even further. She clenched her fingers together, resting her fists in her lap. The ring on her left hand bit into her skin. It was a heavy platinum band, unadorned with designs or script.

 

 _You're never going to marry me_ , he'd told her, _but if you ever did, here's a ring that'll leave a dent for when you decide to throw it at me._

 

She'd only been tempted once, the night after she'd proposed. There had been other ways to get back at him after that, and the ring never needed to come off her finger. It left its own kind of mark by staying on her hand.

 

Her pocket vibrated and Laura fumbled with her phone for a moment before she managed to bring it out.

 

'Lilah' flashed onto the screen. She answered, but didn't speak.

 

“Laura?”

 

Tom.

 

Whatever thread that had been holding her together since her daughter had called snapped, and tears started streaming down her cheeks.

 

“You've got them?” Her voice didn't crack nearly as much as she thought it would.

 

“I've got them.”

 

“You don't let go.” She wrapped her arm around her middle, bringing up her knees and not caring about the way her skirt refused to cover her properly with the shift. “You don't let go.”

 

“I won't.” His voice was rougher than she expected. “Laura, I-”

 

She dropped the phone into the water.

 

“Madame Secretary.”

 

The voice was closer than she would have liked, and she could hear several others shifting behind the speaker.

 

“I need you to come with us.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I want her off world as soon as possible.”

 

“One of the Colonial Heav-”

 

“No.” Richard squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No, she needs to stay off planet, long term, secured.”

 

“You want to stick her on a battlestar?” Jack had to ask, with everything that was happening, there no longer were any clear answers.

 

“Yes.”

 

Richard wanted someone to tell him that this was ridiculous. That Laura Roslin, a woman he had known and worked with for more than twenty years- a woman whose children had grown up alongside his- didn't need to be relocated off world for security purposes.

 

No one spoke up.

 

“Nigala is dry docked over Scorpia right now. Cain could take her,” Jack finally offered, and not what Richard wanted to hear. The Secretary of Defense was just as shaken as the President, he'd known Laura as long as him.

 

He grimaced at the idea. Did they really know how far entrenched Laura was in all of this? Would the admiral really be necessary? “The _Pegasus_ is over Leonis, it'll take days to get here, and I don't want to jump any ships. I don't need people asking me why I'm moving battlestars across the planets.”

 

Richard could see Jack's shoulders relax, he obviously hadn't liked the idea either.

 

“If you want close, there's the _Galactica._ She's four hours out, we could get her there, and no military ships will have to be moved off course.”

 

Close, yes, but.. “Under who?”

 

“Commander William Adama.”

 

“Isn't he-”

 

“Yes.” Jack didn't like dwelling on failures. “What matters is, he'll do as ordered, no complaints. And he's not politically active.”

 

No wonder the man had never made admiral. “Arrange it.” Richard pushed himself up from his chair, suddenly feeling old. That something like this could be traced back to Laura changed everything. Everyone would need to be rechecked. Every decision she had ever made would need to come into question. He couldn't even be sure of Jack now, but he had to start somewhere.

 

His Secretary of Education was married to a frakking terrorist. Laura seemed to have a knack for making his life more interesting, though he really couldn't blame her for what happened last term. Tom had been the source of that disturbance too.

 

“I'm going to go see her.”

 

“I don't-”

 

He silenced the other man with a glance. Just because he wasn't ready to face it didn't mean Richard wasn't going to. There could be no putting this off, not if things were to run smoothly. Laura needed to be completely cut off from access to the planet. They had to make sure that she couldn't signal anything to happen, and they needed her in a more secure location in case someone tried to come after her.

 

Would Tom risk coming after his wife? It was a question Richard had been grappling with since he'd had to ask it. They'd always had a strange dynamic to their relationship, and Cath had always been better at interpreting it than he had. Would they have operated their whole lives under a lie? Could she have been a part of it, had she helped her husband in this cause?

 

With the girls having slipped between his fingers, Richard knew he had lost his biggest bargaining chip in getting information from Laura. At the same time, it was strangely relieving. Using children to manipulate and coerce their parents... it would have made him sick.

 

The security team that followed him was larger than usual, frustrating him further. What did these people in suits matter when those who he had considered friends were suddenly enemies? The break in trust could bring him down more efficiently than a bullet, and more effectively than the current dip in the polls.

 

Richard paused outside the door, the two men standing guard never looking at him. He stared over his shoulder at his entourage.

 

“Stay out here.”

 

He knew they only complied because of the other men posted inside of the room. Laura attacking him seemed a preposterous idea, but everyone had cause to be cautious now.

 

She had punched him once, he suddenly recalled. A Colonial Day barbeque at his house, years ago. They'd both been a little drunk and she'd tried to give him a boxing lesson. Tom had laughed so hard he'd choked on his beer. Richard stepped into the room with the ghost of the sound suddenly ringing in his ears.

 

If only all of it could be some horrific joke.

 

He ignored the expected security, eyes on Laura as he closed the door behind him. She was seated at the end of the small conference table, eyes vaguely focused on the painting hanging on the far wall. Her shoes were on the table in front of her, and her hands were clasped neatly in her lap. Apparently she hadn't breathed a single word since they'd brought her back into the building. They'd fished her phone out of the fountain they found her by, and taken her ID badge from her pocket, the only other things she had with her.

 

Her office, desk and purse were being searched. Her calender combed over, her assistants questioned. A detail had been sent out to her apartment, but they hadn't found anything. No one had found anything, except at the publishing house.

 

It was almost enough to make him want to believe she didn't know; if she hadn't slipped away in the middle of the day...

 

“Hello, Laura.”

 

She didn't respond, and he stopped several feet of reaching her, tucking his hands into his pockets.

 

“It's a bit rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you.” He could feel a slight catch in his throat as his words stuck before they managed to escape. “Just a quick chat,” Richard tried again. “Clear all of this up. You and me, we can sort it out.”

 

Laura narrowed her eyes, looking at him sideways. “You came after my children.”

 

And they'd run. Like foxes from a hound, but they would find whatever den they had dove into. Their father with them. At least he got her to talk, even if it was because he had made her a little angry.

 

“Where are they?”

 

“That's not a question I'm comfortable answering at this time, Mr. President.” She laced her fingers together, straightening in her chair and turning to face him. “Would you care to ask another?”

 

“Gods damn it, this isn't a joke.” He could feel his fists shaking in his pockets.

 

“No, it most certainly isn't.”

 

How could she sit there and act as if he was in the wrong? He hadn't raided her home in the middle of the night. He hadn't done this without provocation. He wasn't a monster.

 

“This is your last chance. Laura, please.”

 

“Please?” She drew out the word, her contempt clear. “Please what?”

 

“Think of your family.”

 

“My family?” She nodded. “Yes, my family. What would happen to them? My husband, tried as a terrorist. Prison for life, at least.”

 

She knew what was happening. Damn it, she knew what they had found. She knew.

 

“My daughters? Taken away, paraded and attacked by the media. What life would be left to them?”

 

He owed Laura nothing, but Richard knew he would keep her girls from that, as best he could. Lilah and Morgan deserved better than what their parents would put them through. What they would be going through now, on the run from their government.

 

“And me.”

 

She smiled, and it made Richard's heart ache.

 

“Me, an official of the government. I know what's going to happen to me, and you can't say you have no idea.”

 

Of course he knew. There was no way she wouldn't be convicted of treason, and traitors were executed.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Jack rubbed the heel of his hands into his eyes, trying to keep himself awake. It hadn't even been one day, and he felt drained. The artificial light of the ship, the darkness through the windows, and the soft hum of the engines were doing their best to lull him into a torpor. He would have welcomed such a lack of awareness. He couldn't fathom why Richard had deemed it necessary for him take this trip. Was he trying to separate himself from the rest of his cabinet? Did he expect others to be hiding in plain sight? Paranoia was to be expected, given the circumstances.

 

The longer he was away, the harder it would be for him to reign the admiralty back in control. They would be jumping at the opportunity to lock down the government and put martial law in place after a breach like this. He needed to be on Caprica, keeping things in order. Richard knew how to calm the Quorum and the press, the military were a different body entirely.

 

Laura shifted across from him, and he turned his eyes to the floor. He couldn't bring himself to look at her.

 

Commander Adama would need an official report of what was happening. Jack felt he was overkill when it came to who needed to inform the man. Unless he was going to be put under lock and key once they docked. Maybe Richard's chat with Laura had revealed more than he was told.

 

Now he was paranoid.

 

Richard should have told him he was going before they got to the ship port. Should have made some effort to tell him about what had been decided.

 

“Sir?”

 

Jack turned to face the young aide, watching as her eyes kept straying towards the woman across from him.

 

“Yes?”

 

“The captain wanted me to inform you we're about to dock with _Galactica._ ”

 

“Thank you, Marie.”

 

With one final glance towards Laura, the aide moved back to the front of the ship.

 

“Is it really that bad?”

 

He froze at the sound of her voice, some primal part of his brain insisting that if he didn't move she would leave him alone.

 

“I haven't exactly been given the opportunity to look in a mirror.”

 

Jack forced himself to move, and finally looked at her. She smiled at him, barely, he could see it in the tiny creases around her eyes. It had to hurt to move her mouth. Most would be hard pressed to focus on her eyes, with the purple bruise, the swelling of her cheek and the dried blood on her lip. He wanted to ask what she had done, but knew it had been nothing but someone else's anger that had marked her face. He'd never known Richard to be so short tempered before.

 

“Well?”

 

“Would you even try to cover it with make-up?” he asked.

 

“No.”

 

“It's not bad.”

 

She turned her eyes away towards the window. Laura had always been good at telling when he was lying.

 

“My Gods.”

 

Jack stared from the corner of his eye, catching a brief glimpse of their viper escort. It was sometimes difficult for him to remember that Laura had so little contact with the military, had never served. So much had scarred her life, it was strange to realize that war hadn't been a part of that.

 

The stars vanished as they were swallowed by the battlestar's flight pod.

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you have any frakking idea what this is about?”

 

“No.” Bill didn't trust any news coming from the Colonies, not with government officials about to board his ship.

 

Saul grimaced. “I suppose we'll need to roll out a welcoming mat.”

 

“No. We'll greet them and then take them to the wardroom. I don't want anything getting in the way of finding out why they're here.”

 

“Everyone knows they're here. I hope you don't think this will be kept quiet?”

 

“I don't care about that. I just want them off my ship as soon as possible.”

 

“Good luck with that, they'll probably be here talking some new policy for a week.”

 

Bill hoped it was something that mundane. It didn't make sense for them to be coming to his ship though, not with newer, higher class ships in the fleet; under the command of those who weren't disgraced or on the verge of retirement. There had been no orders from the admiralty, no changes that he was aware of. All he knew was that the government was in some sort of uproar, and the media was going wild with speculation. Security had doubled around the President's residence, and government buildings. All of Adar's scheduled meetings and appearances had been canceled, and the whole cabinet had been recalled to Caprica.

 

The comm rang and Saul answered.

 

“XO.”

 

Bill buttoned up the top of his uniform jacket, smoothing his hands down the sides when he finished. With such short notice, he didn't feel obligated to get into dress grays. If they wanted the fanfare, they could have planned the dog and pony show, rather than showing up unannounced.

 

“The Commander and I will be the meet and greet party, and make sure the wardroom on deck C is cleared for use.”

 

“They're here.”

 

“Yeah,” Saul answered as he hung up. “Bill, I-”

 

“I've got a bad feeling too.”

 

“Glad it's not just me.”

 

* * *

 

 

Was she going to wear the same suit for the rest of her life? They hadn't exactly let her pack anything. Maybe they would give her one of those ridiculous orange jumpsuits.

 

Laura wasn't sure how she should be measuring the time she had left. If she would be able to look at a clock and know, once the hands reached just there, she would be gone. Three was a good number.

 

She worried about Jack. Whatever was about to happen, she didn't want to see him suffer.

 

She didn't think about her daughters, or her husband.

 

She ran her tongue along the teeth on the left side of her mouth, glad all of them were still in place. There was a chip in her canine. People probably chipped their teeth all the time aboard a military ship, getting it looked after wouldn't be a problem. If they let her get looked after. Perhaps she was being turned over to the military for questioning, and a chipped tooth was about to be the least of her worries.

 

Her mind turned to Richard, curious if he had liked the feel of the gun in his hand when he'd struck her across the face with it. He was always more fond of acting than debating, which had made him a popular candidate to the people. Initially, anyway, before they had started calling him a dictator outside of the tabloids and blogs.

 

Was _Galactica_ anything more than a convenient dumping ground for her?

 

Jack stood and Laura followed suit, knowing the less she made him talk to her the better. His focus slid from over her shoulder to down her arm. The difficulty he had looking at her was strangely comforting. If Richard hadn't bruised her, would Jack have looked as if he hated her? Would she have been able to take that? She certainly understood it, but that didn't make betraying one of her few close friends easier.

 

Marie watched them pass, eyes wide. She didn't try to avert her eyes. Of course, she wasn't entirely sure what was going on. The girl was probably going to get thrown into a small room and made to sign away everything she saw in the last few hours until her fingers bled. Laura almost let herself feel pity for her.

 

They wound their way through the ship, gathering a small security force as they moved towards the airlock. Would more guns be waiting for her on the other side? How much did this ship know? Her cheek twinged and she clutched her skirt to keep her hand from reaching for the bruise. It would call enough attention to itself without her framing it. What would their new hosts would make of it, and what Jack would say to them? That she fell down a flight of stairs? Their guard peeled off, replaced by marines as they stepped onto the battelstar. The gray corridor was inauspicious, and one of the lights flickered as she walked by it. Was the whole ship this way? Was she really going to be trapped here until she was tried and killed?

 

“Sir?”

 

Jack stopped and Laura nearly bumped into him. “Yes?”

 

“I'm to take you to the wardroom on deck C. The Commander and the XO are meeting you there.”

 

He stared back at the young man a moment before gesturing with his hand. “Lead the way.”

 

Laura held back her smile lest she break the scab on her lip. Apparently he hadn't been expecting such a lackluster reception.

 

“I don't think they're happy to have us.” Her face ached when she talked.

 

“I imagine they'll be less thrilled once I've spoken to them.” He managed a small smile before he looked back at her.

 

In that moment she saw him remember everything that happened in the last few hours.

 

It hurt more than any bruise.

 

* * *

 

 

“Sorry we weren't there to greet you, we had a small maintenance emergency on the way over.”

 

Given the age of the ship, Jack wasn't inclined to believe they were lying. “It's alright Commander. Before we get started, I wanted to know what guest quarters you have available.”

 

The commander and his XO exchanged a quick glance. “How long will you be staying? When we heard you were arriving, we weren't told.”

 

“Secretary Roslin needs a room.” Jack smiled pleasantly while giving his non-answer. A smile for Richard when he was told to board the transport with Laura. A smile for Marie. A smile for the guards. The last time he had smiled this much was six years ago, when Tom had been refusing to speak with him.

 

“Colonel, can you have one of the sergeants take the Secretary to some guest quarters?”

 

“Yes sir.” He eyed both of them warily before moving towards the comm on the wall.

 

Jack clasped his hands behind his back, muscles relaxing into the familiar parade rest stance. No matter how long it had been since his active service, his body remembered. Laura was just behind him, and it made his skin itch knowing she was there. He wanted her out of the room. For his own sanity, as much as for security. Why had Richard told him to do this?

 

The hatch opened not long after the Colonel finished his order through the comm, and one of the marines entered. “Ma'am?”

 

Jack turned, making himself watch. How would she look next time he saw her? Better? Worse?

 

“Gentlemen.” She gave a shallow nod to those assembled in front of her. She knew better than to make a scene. Then again, considering the mystery surrounding them, she hardly needed to.

 

“Laura.” Her name came out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

 

She froze, as if surprised Jack had spoken, then slowly turned around.

 

“Just..” His throat was dry. How was he supposed to speak with her? How was this meeting going to end? “..get some rest, alright?”

 

She nodded, confusion clouding her eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Once the hatch was sealed, Bill turned his eyes to the Secretary of Defense. Odd as this meeting had been, that exchange had just made things stranger.

 

“The notice of your arrival also failed to mention why you were coming.”

 

“Yes. Why don't you have a seat Commander?”

 

He would have preferred to stay standing, try and keep the talk down as much as he could, but he complied with the request. He had already failed to meet the party at their own ship, as Boomer botched another landing. However disgruntled he was at having them on board, he hadn't meant to be blatantly rude. Going off of his cue, Saul took the seat next to him.

 

“I'm sure you've been getting the reports from Caprica?” The Secretary was still turned slightly towards the hatch, only showing them his profile.

 

“We've been getting reports from all over the Colonies.”

 

“Yes.. word does travel fast, whatever that word is.” He brought up his hand and rubbed his thumb down the line of his jaw. “A link to a terrorist organization was found within the President's cabinet.”

 

Bill kept his focus on the man across form him, but he could feel Saul fidget at his side. “Roslin.”

 

“Yes.” He turned to face them fully, studying their faces a moment before continuing. “Her husband, more specifically. The President ordered her off Caprica.” His eyes locked with Bill's. Was he stalling, or looking for something? “Your ship was the closest secure location we had. While we have her in custody, her husband and two daughters are missing.”

 

The kind of mess he never wanted on his ship.

 

“What story are you giving the media?”

 

The Secretary's hand covered his mouth before dropping to his side in a fist. “She was removed from Caprica for her own protection. Her family was taken as a terrorist action.”

 

“The Secretary of Education?” Saul's surprise barely kept the laughter out of his words. “You really think people will believe that? Why would anyone go that far for her?”

 

The look the Secretary of Defense leveled at his XO made Bill sit straighter in his chair.

 

His calm tone didn't match the dark look that had passed over his face. “She's one of the people who's worked with Adar since he was Mayor.”

 

“So there's a history someone could exploit.” Bill looked over at Saul, wanting him to keep his incredulousness to himself.

 

“It's enough of a reason to let the media chew it over. There's plenty of other theories already out there. Luckily, none of them are close to the truth.”

 

“And what is that exactly?” Saul asked.

 

Bill grimaced. At least it was progress.

 

He gripped the back of the chair across the table, leaning into it. His knuckles were white. “Her husband has been linked back to the terrorist group that claimed the attacks on Sagittaron twenty three years ago. A group calling themselves the Sagittaron Freedom Fighters. They've caused a number of other problems over the years, and funded others. Judging from how quickly he got away from us, I'd say he's fairly well connected.”

 

“How did you even find out about his involvement?”

 

How had they missed it in the first place?

 

“Through his publishing company. It turns out he owns a few other small businesses, fronts. It all leads back to accounts that have funded some anti-government movements. As well as enough savings to fund a small army, if he chose.”

 

“You really think he's been marshaling forces for twenty years?”

 

Bill let Saul continue with the questions, glad of the opportunity to fully study the man across from them. He looked exhausted, and if the curl of his lip when he spoke could be trusted, angry.

 

“Considering the position he found himself in, I think Tom would have waited as long as he could. The President did regularly invite him and his wife over for dinner.” The Secretary of Defense smiled. It settled easily on his face, but didn't reach his eyes.

 

“Tom?” Saul raised an eyebrow.

 

He closed his eyes. “I've known him about just as long as I've known Laura. This is.. It's a bit difficult to get your mind around. It's like having someone point to your best friend since childhood and telling you they're a cylon.”

 

Bill stood, it was time for this meeting to get to the point. “What are President Adar's instructions?”

 

“Keep her locked up.”

 

“The brig's empty.” Saul looked over to him.

 

“Quietly,” he amended, “she's supposed to be a victim.”

 

“You want me to let a terrorist threat wander around my ship?” Bill clenched his fingers, keeping himself under control.

 

“Her husband is the threat, and I highly doubt he has the resources to mount a rescue against a battlestar.”

 

Saul scoffed. “He got right out from under your noses.”

 

“He'll be found. He has two teenage girls with him, it's bound to slow him down.”

 

It was strange, but in knowing that Roslin was a mother, Bill had completely overlooked that her husband was a father. He pressed his lips into a thin line. “I wouldn't count on that. His children were the ones he got to safety. You said it yourself, this man must have well placed resources.”

 

“Which at the moment our government is trying to locate. Which is why Laura is just to be kept.”

 

“Not interrogated?” Saul's question held the room silent for a moment.

 

“No.” Jack looked pale. “No. That.. it shouldn't.. no.”

 

“Mister Secretary, we have more guest quarters available if this meeting is over.” He knew exhaustion when he looked at it.

 

He looked over to Bill, the shadows under his eyes seeming to deepen as he smiled. “That sounds wonderful.”

 

 

 


End file.
